Lorraine has been living large in Mexico with her sweet lover, El Chapo. Even though he is a cold-blooded killer and ruthless gangster, Lorraine remains unaware of all that. She believes that the rapid response he gets when he asks people to do things for him is because of their love and respect for the man and not because they are terrified of him. She believes him to be a loving, generous man, albeit very short and unattractive. In the back of her mind she feels a little guilty for cheating on Frederick, and she can’t even remember why she ran away from Black Mountain, but she is happy. Fat and happy.
Every day when she wakes up, one of the servants brings her a cold orange juice spiked with champagne and a steaming cup of dark coffee. She spends the rest of the morning choosing which flowy outfit to wear. Flowy is the new name of the game, since she long before outgrew the Eileen Fisher clothes she brought with her. Flowy covers a multitude of sins. She misses her Eileen Fisher clothing, though, so she instructs the maids to embroider labels and put them into her new flowy outfits. The idiots make a botch job of it, though, and instead of writing Eileen Fisher, the stitch “Elena Fisher.” so be it. Maybe Chappie would support her in starting her own clothing line called Elena Fisher. She could market them to the wealthy women in Mexico. She also has a closet full of shoes custom made to fit her six-A narrow feet. It takes hours for her to bathe, dress, apply make-up and get ready for a day of sitting on a chaise lounge beside the pool wiggling her fingers to call the help. All day long she demands more fruity drinks and finger foods. Chappie has brought her piles of paperback romance novels, and she devours them.
Chappie had been away on business, and she missed him. When he was away, those servants were not as quick to respond when she wanted something. And were they giving her dirty looks? He had returned the night before and had brought her several gorgeous necklaces, all sticky with a rust-colored substance. When she questioned him about what that mess was, he told her not to worry about it. “Juss wash it off!” he instructed. “Is nossing.”
He also announced that they would be going to the Riviera Maya for a trip that would combine his business with her pleasure. She liked the sound of that. They set off in a limousine with armed men in black outfits in cars in front and behind them. She packed so many clothes that her Louis Vuitton suitcases filled not only the trunk of the limo but also those of the two black cars. “Why do we need all these ugly men with us?” she asked.
“They are my friends,” he answered. “They wanna go to the beach too.”
“But why are they carrying those big weapons?” she wanted to know.
“Nossing to worry about, my sweet. Is just what they do.”
They arrived at El Dorado Royale resort on the Riviera Maya and were greeted warmly by the staff. As they all checked in to a Presidential suite on the ocean front, they were served Champagne. Lorraine took one swig and set the glass down. “Chappie, this Champagne is not as good as the Champagne I drink at your house!” He shrugged.
Chappie and Lorraine were taken to their suite in a golf cart and were told that Lorraine’s many bags would be brought shortly. Chappie’s friends in black were housed in adjoining rooms and were told firmly that they could not carry weapons around the resort. “Is okay,” Chappie told them. Juss buy serapes at the gift shop and roll them inside. It will look like you are going to do yoga.”
Lorraines bags were brought to the suite and placed in one of the two bedrooms in the suite. They filled the room. Then the staff left. Lorraine stared at Chappie, “Do they expect me to unpack those bags myself? If we were at your villa, the maids would do it for me.”
Chappie picked up the phone and she could hear him give orders in rapid fire, angry Spanish. In seconds a soft rap on the door revealed three trembling maids. Chappie pointed to the bedroom filled with Lorraine’s bags, and they scuttled inside and began unpacking.
Another knock and Chappie yanked the door open to reveal his six friends, no longer dressed in black, but clad in wildly colorful Hawaiian shirts and baggy swimsuits. Under their arms were long objects rolled in Mexican striped serapes. They entered the room and sat on all the available chairs. Chappie opened a bottle of tequila on the bar, and they all passed it around, taking big gulps out of the bottle. Lorraine wiggled her fingers, but was disappointed that no maids appeared to fetch her a fruity beverage. “This place sucks,” she thought.